PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A dome of clearest blue

     arches high above the land

wispy thin clouds blow

     upon the growing wind

majestic mountains rise

     peaks thrusting into the sky

darkening clouds there do grow

     like dark castles in the sky

jagged rocks do barren lie

     little soil there does cling

plants there cannot grow

     where the rain can run free

the air does take a chill

     as the wind is mighty grow

slicing through the summer clothes

     too thin for that which comes

quickly races the bike

     rushing to a beckoning home

the warmth of summer ride

     cut short by coming storm

rain drops fat and full

     wash down on mountain high

in gathering streamlet’s does grow

     carrying precious soil away

pebbles now do shift

     and stones do wiggle free

and then with gathering speed

     fall downward upon the road